This particular piece was originally published 04/29/2014 and you can find it here. In early 2021, I jumped on to fan wagon for the series The Chosen and after reading this, you will see why. It was really encouraging and exciting to see captivating and beautiful storytelling as well as acting revolving around the Gospels.
Though I haven’t done it as often as I have in the past, storytelling through writing is something I enjoy doing. I began editing this piece a few months ago in anticipation of, The Chosen – Season 4, and after seeing the first three episodes in the theater over the weekend, I believe it is finally time to share this.
Tom
The following is a fictionalized version of the accounts found in the Gospel of Matthew, Chapter 17.
Near sunset, alone in a boat, gently rocking back and forth on the water, sat Peter. He was listening to the gentle groan of the boat, the water lapping at its sides, the occasional breeze, the gulls and waterfowl. The rest of the men were back at the house with Jesus. Peter let his mind wander to what his brothers had been up to today. He wondered if Jesus might be sharing something with them that he was missing out on. Since he was a little hungry, he also thought about the food that they would be preparing for the evening meal.
Peter lingered on the thought of food; it had been a long day.
But lingering on food or what everyone else was doing with Jesus wouldn’t help him accomplish his task. He just needed to catch a fish.
One. Fish.
He had already been out on the water for a few hours now and was coming up short, embarrassingly short for a lifelong fisherman. True, it had been awhile since he had been in a boat to fish, but it hadn’t been that long. Right? Definitely not long enough to forget the wisdom, experience, tricks, techniques and approaches gained from years of making a living at this. A little earlier, Peter had seen a few fishermen bringing in some successful catches, they’d recognized him and exchanged short pleasantries and few laughs, perhaps one or two teasingly at his expense, before continuing on. After that, Peter had set out to where they had come from and was now a good distance out from the Capernaum shoreline of the Galilean Sea and still… nothing.
Not a single fish with each cast and retrieval of his net.
I’ll stay out here all night, through dawn and the next day and night if that is what it takes. I just need a fish.
Just. One. Fish. That’s all Jesus asked for.
Despite not being successful thus far, this task was a welcome one. It felt good to be out on the water, real good. Things always seemed much simpler out on the water. You sail or row out to where you want, you cast your net, you wait, retrieve and cast again. Repeat as necessary. Simple. Mostly. Peter cast his net again and sat down, wrestling with what was truly bothering him and it wasn’t a fish.
When you are following Jesus, a lot happens. A lot had happened recently.
About ten days ago, Jesus took Peter, James and John on a walk up on a mountain. Peter didn’t think that he would ever forget the way Jesus looked up there. It was still Him but, even more so. Even down to his clothes. Was there even a word for what happened?
And then there was the Light…
To say the light had heat would be misguided and inadequate. The sun had heat when it shone, candles, furnaces, cooking fires… they had light and heat. This surpassed them all. There was so much light and brilliance; it was all around Jesus, within Him and without him. He shone like the sun…yet they could still see Him. There was even a heat, a warmth that Peter felt down in his very soul that he never knew he was missing, until that day. He looked powerful, so very powerful. Truly he had seen Messiah as He is, the Son of God… yet they were still alive after seeing these things…
How was that even possible?
And then as if this wasn’t enough, two men appeared to walk up behind Jesus and address him. None of this seemed to surprise Jesus as He was still very much Himself and addressing them as old friends and brothers.
On the water, Peter’s cheeks flushed warm with slight embarrassment as he remembered asking Jesus if he could build special places for Jesus, Moses and Elijah there on the mountain and how he got sidetracked and began to excitedly ramble. Wait, how do I know who them? James, John – it’s Elijah and Moses!! Jesus didn’t say anything and the Prophets didn’t come over and introduce themselves. Yet, we know! How is this possible?! This is so good that we are here! Lord, if you want let us build three tabernacles for You, Elijah and Moses…
And then the dreadful fear he felt when The Voice came out from the heavens,
“This is my Beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. Hear Him!”
And just as quickly as he felt the fear, it was replaced with great comfort as he felt Jesus’s hand on his shoulder telling him to get up and to not be afraid. They need not be afraid in the Presence of The Most High ? How could this be? And as soon as they all stood up, it was over. The Prophets were gone and Jesus looked like He always did.
Peter, James and John did as Jesus commanded and didn’t tell a soul about what they saw. They kept that secret until after The Resurrection. On the way down the mountain, Jesus clarified a few things they were concerned about. It was always interesting to watch how He answered their questions: always truthful, sometimes serious, other times joking or teasingly to make a point, or casual and matter-of-fact like this time.
Nearly finishing the last stretch from their trek on mountain, they noticed a crowd below them. John recognized a few of the disciples and Peter saw the others among the crowd. They had been doing as Jesus instructed, preaching the Kingdom and healing the sick. The boys had seen much success with healing those who needed it but they had come to one they couldn’t heal. This poor kid was passed through each of the disciples and then equally puzzled and discouraged, they brought the boy to Jesus along with his father.
The father told Jesus the story: his son was an epileptic and it had gotten so bad that he was severely hurting himself when the seizures took him; falling into anything from cooking fires to water. The response Jesus gave to the rest of them was firm, exasperated even. Then He received the boy so gently, so openly; a welcoming smile on a face dirty with dust and sweat from a trek up and down a mountain. Later that evening after the crowd had left, the disciples were gathered around a small fire, sharing dinner with Jesus and John prompted Peter to ask why they couldn’t heal him. His answer felt like encouragement and a rebuke all at the same time, leaving no room for pride or offense. All three, belief, prayer and fasting were needed here. Full reliance on the power of the Most High.
All these events had been piling up in Peter’s mind. Even more than that, just a few days ago, in fact, Jesus was saying he was to be killed. What was that all about?
Peter would never let that happen.
And then there was earlier today. Peter was out on an errand for the family hosting the disciples in their home when he was approached by the authorities from the temple who collected the temple tax.
They knew who Peter was and who he followed.
“Does your Teacher not pay the Temple Tax?”
Was this a trick? Were they trying to trip up my Master through me now? They just can’t handle the competition, can they?
“Yes, of course He does.” Peter responded, slightly annoyed. What Jew wouldn’t pay the Temple Tax? He thought to himself. They walked off without saying a word, one of them scribbling something down.
What was that all about?
Peter had had about all he could take for now; the glory on the mountain, the boy – both why he wasn’t healed and then why he was – Jesus saying he was going to die and now these petty, jealous Temple tax collectors. Not to mention everything Peter had seen at Jesus’s side since he began following him. His mind was going into overload.
Back on the boat, Peter pulled in his nets again. Nothing. An exasperatedly loud sigh coming out as he gathered them back up and recast.
I just need one bloody fish! Not a big fish. Not a large catch of fish. Just. One. Fish!
Still irritated by the Temple tax collectors, Peter had come back to the house to see Jesus helping one of the women with some of the evening meal preparations. A frustrated look on Peter’s face, a playful smile and an inquisitive look on Jesus’s face.
“Simon, I’d like to know your thoughts. Tell me, when kings collect duty and taxes… do they collect these from their children or from the other people?”
“Well, the others, of course.”
“Then the children are free.” Jesus looked up from his task, letting what he just said sink in, waiting for Peter to get the underlying message of the Kingdom. Peter’s look didn’t change much, but Jesus could tell things were starting to move.
He continued, with a lightly sarcastic tone, “But…so we don’t offend those who do not understand such things, I tell you what…” Jesus walked over to Peter and put his hands on his shoulders. “Go fishing. The first fish you catch, open its mouth, in there you’ll find a four-drachma coin, which is enough to pay my temple tax and yours.”
Jesus walked back to finish his task.
“Do I bring any fish back home for the meal?”
“Just do as I said Peter, you’ll find what you are looking for out there.”
Back at the boat, in the remaining twilight, Peter thought more about everything he’d seen and heard. He was taking a step back, looking at the larger picture as he heard again his Lord’s words, “The children are free…”.
The Kingdom was so much more than what the majority of teachers in Israel believed and taught. It seemed like it was so much more than what any of his disciples had even dared to believe and think. Jesus was challenging everyone’s ideas of the Kingdom. Peter recalled hints of it throughout the Prophets and the Law, and things Jesus had said clarifying the Scriptures. So many things were being turned upside down. Of all these things, Peter knew one thing, Jesus really knew. It was more than insight, definitely more. Everything he taught was with authority, like someone who had firsthand knowledge and experience. The very Spirit of God was with Him and in Him.
He was the Son of the Living God.
Peter began pulling on the net and felt the familiar tug of the catch. At last! Peter pulled furiously on the rope. He pulled the net up on the boat, it looked like a good handful of fish; a mix of Tilapia and Carp, twelve… maybe fifteen?
Peter heard Jesus’s voice again, “The first fish…”
Peter opened the net and dove his hands in, looking away, not trying to pick one fish over the other. The first one he grabbed was a good sized Tilapia – for its species – and a lively fighter, reminding Peter just slightly of himself. Sitting back, in the fish’s fight for freedom, he saw the faintest glint of metal as its mouth opened and closed. Having handled fish since he was a small boy, Peter easily opened the fish’s mouth and sure enough pulled out a coin. It had some silt and filth on it but there was no mistaking the shape of a coin. Peter put the coin on the bench next to him and with a small laugh, kissed the tilapia and then released it into the water before letting the other fish loose.
Sitting back down, he wiped the coin off. The size was familiar to him, and in the light of a small lantern he had lit, was able to read the inscription as he wiped the small bits of filth and silt on the coin.
It was a silver Tyrian shekel…
A Four-Drachma coin.
Well into the dusk, with the night rapidly enveloping the heavens, Peter began to chuckle which then erupted into full on laughter. Holding the coin up in the air, still laughing, he shouted to the sky, “The first fish!”.
Peter had not noticed but some time before the catch, Jesus had come down to the shoreline to watch his friend and disciple work things out. Hearing Peter’s laughter carry across the water, Jesus smiled, stood up from driftwood he was sitting on and walked back towards the house.
After Peter had returned to shore and tidied up the nets, he walked back into town and found the two men. Though evening, these men were still wandering about inquiring about and collecting the temple tax.
“Well, well…” Said one.
“So have you spoken to your Teacher?” Said the other.
Peter smiled. “From whom do the kings collect their duty and taxes? Their children or the people?”
“The people of course.” Said one.
Peter laughed. “Indeed, so then the children are free!” He handed over the four-drachma coin. “But…” Mirroring his Master’s words. “Just to make sure you aren’t offended by what I’m saying… this is for me and my Teacher. Now, if you’re satisfied, I’m hungry and will be having my supper now.”
Peter walked off, leaving them with a puzzled look on their face.
“What do you mean the children are free?” One of them called out.
“I guess you’ll have to figure that one out yourself. Maybe take some time and go fishing!”